


An Arm and an Eye

by brethilaki



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), F/M, Fix-It, Happy, Happy Ending, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 12:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brethilaki/pseuds/brethilaki
Summary: “Peter? Tony is alive - ”“Oh! Oh my god, oh my - ”“Look at me, please.” She kept her eyes on Peter but raised her voice to address the gathering crowd. “Tony is alive, but he needs attention. You see my hand on his chest? Okay, that’s the only thing that’s keeping him alive right now. We need to get him to a hospital.”





	An Arm and an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Endgame fix-it I wanted to write. It just took me a couple of weeks.  
> Thanks to atypicalsnowman for the beta!

“FRIDAY? Vitals?”

“Critical,” the AI scratched out, her own artificial voice tinny and a little too weak. Pepper did not give the cancerous dread at the pit of her stomach an opportunity to expand.

“Tony? It’s going to be alright,” she said firmly. He was unresponsive, but not dead yet. Pepper’s own monitoring equipment painted a pretty grim prognosis, but she kept her hands moving and her focus on her husband unwavering.

“Is - Mr. Stark is he - ”

Pepper jumped. She’d almost forgotten that there were other people in the world. Her armor, designed for search and rescue, had first aid capabilities; and being Tony’s, it was also semi-autonomous when she wanted it to be, and smart. She plugged it into Tony’s suit interface with barely a touch of her hand so it could start to stabilize him, at least keep his heart beating. But that was only going to get them so far.

“Peter. Peter I need you listen to me, please, and calm down.”

“Yeah. Okay, yeah, I’m calm, I’m, uh. W - what - what do you need me to do, I - ”

“First, I’m gonna need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?”

“Yeah - I mean - no - I don’t know, I’m - um - ”

“Peter? Tony is alive - ”

“Oh! Oh my god, oh my - ”

“Look at me, please.” She kept her eyes on Peter but raised her voice to address the gathering crowd. “Tony is alive, but he  _ needs  _ attention. You see my hand on his chest? Okay, that’s the only thing that’s keeping him alive right now. We need to get him to a hospital.”

It was bad, it was really bad, and Pepper had an awful vision of Tony surviving, but only on life support. Growing old in a hospital bed, silenced and unmoving, but technically alive. She wasn’t going to let that happen, but she wasn’t going to resign herself to it until she’d tried everything else. Peter watched, nodding, twitching to help. But Pepper wasn’t going to put any of this burden on him.

“Look, I’m good for take off,” said a familiar voice that filled her with relief, “that is, if he’s good to move. Nearest hospital… 20 miles as the War Machine flies.

“No. No, no, no.” Another man came forward, one Pepper had never seen before but recognized immediately from Tony’s stories.

“It’ll be a rural hospital, not equipped for anything like this. He’ll only end up getting transferred to the city, and if he survives one flight, he won’t survive another.”

The man - Strange? - knelt on the other side of Tony’s body, next to Peter, who jumped up and moved to make room. Strange looked at Pepper, like he was waiting for permission, and she gave him a quick, urgent nod.

“Pulse is strong,” he muttered, fingers on Tony’s neck, “but I suppose that’s all you.”

Pepper nodded again. “You saw this, right?” she whispered. “This future? Is - he’s going to - ”

Strange shook his head, and for a second her blood froze, but he continued, sounding almost guilty, apologetic, as he spoke.

“I saw over fourteen million endings to this story and I wasn’t looking past… this, whether or not we… won.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Now I wish that I had.” His face hardened, and he looked from Pepper up over her head and behind her, where Rhodey must be standing, waiting to fly. “Okay, we’re going to have to move him, obviously, but the less he moves the better. I’ll open a portal right to the hospital, but ideally we’re going to need a stretcher.”

“I can do that!” yelped Peter from where he stood, stock still at attention, watching everything proceed. “I can - hold on, let me - ” His head whipped around and landed on the grounded ship behind Tony’s back. “Here - ” He held his arms out, palms up, and stretched his fingers toward the ground. Several lines of white rope shot out from his wrists and clung to the ship, forming a Tony-sized cradle.

Rhodey came over, armor abandoned, and gently eased Tony onto his back.

“Calm down, Witch Doctor, I know how to move an injured soldier,” he said preemptively. “Just need someone to grab the other end of that web blanket and bring over.”

“I got it.”

Pepper looked up to see a tired-eyed Clint Barton already yanking the other end of the stretcher away from the ship.

“Over here, kid. Just set it down. And you - ” he gave Dr. Strange an intense look “ - you better save him, you hear me?”

Rhodey rolled Tony onto his side, Pepper’s arm moving with his chest, so they could set the stretcher down on the ground underneath him. A shower of golden sparks filled her peripheral vision as Dr. Strange started drawing the portal.

“Wait!” said a girl’s voice Pepper couldn’t place. A child stepped from the thronging onlookers, face painted and proud. The King of Wakanda stood behind her in his black suit. “Where are you taking him.”

“The… hospital?” said Dr. Strange.

“No,” said the girl. “This is beyond your medicine. If you want to save this man’s life then give him to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hey,” said Rhodey, standing up. “I’d listen to the princess.”

Dr. Strange looked to Pepper in question, and she nodded.

“If Rhodey trusts her.”

“Okay,” he agreed, changing the rotation of his arm just slightly. “But this… may not be a problem for technology alone.”

“Then I’m glad you’re coming, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was touch-and-go - for hours, it was torture, and Pepper couldn’t do anything but comfort Peter until another sorcerer showed up to take her home. She was back five minutes later, with a sleeping Morgan in her arms, sitting in what she supposed would be called a waiting room, and waiting.

Comforting Peter Parker mostly meant listening to the boy while rambled and worried, occasionally reminding him to stop for air. The other sorcerer, Wong, offered to take him home, too, but Peter wrung his hands and stuttered,

“I don’t - I don’t know, I don’t know, I mean, I don’t want to be in the - be in anyone’s way but I - I know it’s… but what if they need me to do something and I’m not, you know - I c - I guess… that probably won’t happen, right but? Oh my god, Aunt May, do you think she’s been - all this time, five - five years? Do you think she thought I was dead, what if she thought - oh my god, what if I was dead? Was I - was I dead? Wait, Aunt May is okay, right? Ned - MJ - are - ”

Pepper balanced Morgan on one hip and stood up to grab Peter’s shoulder. 

“Peter.”

He stared at her for a second, mouth flapping silently, then his gaze slid down to the sleeping girl.

“That’s your - that’s Tony’s - ?” he whispered. Pepper rubbed his upper arm.

“It’s okay, Peter. Go home. I’ll be here if they need anything. I’ll call you as soon as… as we know.”

“If you need - if they need - ”

“I’ll call you if we need anything. Wong can bring you right back.”

“I - if… if  _ I _ need…”

“You have Tony’s number.”   
Peter nodded.   
“Call. I’ll answer.”

“O - okay. Okay, yeah.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

They vanished a second later in a circle of sparks. Morgan shifted in her sleep, burying her nose in Pepper’s neck and muttering some quiet nonsense from her dream. She didn’t seem troubled, and Pepper was glad to feel her relax and drift back into stillness.

 

* * *

 

“I know it still looks pretty bad, but that’s really just cosmetic. Believe it or not the damage was  _ worse _ than it looked, and we…”

“We just didn’t consider that aspect to be a priority. I know a handful plastic surgeons I’d recommend for that, when he’s on his feet again.”

Dr. Strange and the princess, Shuri, kept talking, but Pepper was barely listening. On the table in front of her, Tony was unconscious but breathing unassisted. She blinked through her tears and leaned in to stroke his hair, kiss his forehead, trace her fingers over the stump on the right side of his mangled chest, where his arm had once been.

“The necrosis was spreading from the arm,” Dr. Strange continued. “We couldn’t save it.”

“And the suit, it’s - in there, in - ”

“It was the quickest way to rebuild the vital parts,” said Shuri. “They were degrading so fast, even as I was reconstructing them. I was worried they wouldn’t stop, but apparently there’s a spell for that.”

“Something like that,” said Dr. Strange. From below the table, Morgan tugged on Pepper’s arm.

“Is Daddy awake yet?”

“Not yet, sweetie,” said Pepper around a lump of mixed sadness and relief. “Daddy got hurt really badly and he needs to sleep for a long time so he can get better.”   
“Okay,” Morgan pouted. “But when will he be better?”

Pepper looked to Dr. Strange and Shuri, who looked at each other.

“It’s - uh - it’s hard to say,” Dr. Strange said slowly.

“Not exactly a benchmark to compare to,” Shuri shrugged.

Morgan was still looking up expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know, honey,” Pepper said, smoothing down her hair. “I’m sorry. What do you want to do while we wait?”

 

* * *

 

 

There was a lot to do while they waited, none of it very entertaining for Morgan. 

“Why don’t you take a break,” suggested Steve, a hypocrite, who had thrown himself at post-resurrection chaos with impressive stamina and determination. 

The collective relief, Pepper had gathered, lasted around 24 hours before the power struggles, legal disputes, and humanitarian crises started cropping up: people displaced by their own absences; poor, beleaguered countries whose populations had now doubled overnight; dictators waking up to find their countries in the hands of the people. Everything the Avengers had been struggling to keep on top of over the past five years was boiling over all at once, and the only consolation was that there were more of them now. Well, that and the fact that their world had been given a second chance. Like most things, it was coming at a price, and they weren’t about to waste it.

Steve and the Avengers were on damage control, but very little was being done yet in the realm of diplomacy. Pepper, personally, had not only her company to see to, but was also coordinating the efforts of its charitable arm - working from a laptop, sitting at a table in a brightly lit room in the same wing of the palace as Tony’s bed. 

At least, that is what she had been doing before Steve, lingering on an ended conference call, had proceeded to make this completely infeasible suggestion. Pepper snorted.

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Look, I know you’re not really used to... not always comfortable with stepping aside and letting other people handle things - and for good reason, I know!”

“That’s a jab at Tony.”

“I didn’t mean any disrespect, but… say, speaking of Tony…”

Pepper tilted her head and watched Steve, for once, struggle with words.

“Just… how… is he doing okay?”

“Still resting. Nothing’s changed. Not that they’ve told me.” Pepper buried her face in her hand.

From the corner of the room a little voice filtered over to her table with the midday sun. Morgan, who had been playing on the floor with Happy, was now chatting brightly with someone on the other side of the doorway while Happy struggled to his feet. Pepper straightened.

“What is it?” said Steve from the computer screen.

“I’ll call you back,” Pepper promised, and ended the call. Morgan turned from the doorway and ran to her, crying:

“Mommy, mommy, mommy! Guess what!”

Behind her one of the princess’s attendants peaked around through the threshold, smiling. Pepper jumped to her feet.

 

* * *

 

 

Pepper forgot about calling Steve, or Peter, Rhodey, or anyone else. She lifted Morgan into her arms and ran through hallways the short distance to Tony’s room without even waiting for Happy to finish getting up.

They had moved Tony from the operating table to a bed in the same room and he was lying there, almost as still as he had been after the surgery - but now his eyes were open, taking in the room around him without yet moving his head.

The room was brightly, naturally lit. Over the five days since the operation it had slowly filled with things. Flowers, mostly, and cards: handwritten notes, children’s drawings, from fans and strangers as well as friends.

“Daddy!” Morgan screamed, struggling in Pepper’s arms. Tony turned his head toward the door, left eye straining. The right was milky and still.

“Morgan?” he said, voice a little rough from disuse. “Is that my baby girl? Pepper?”

Pepper bent her knees to set Morgan down safely but ended up kneeling on the ground, weeping openly a few feet from the bed. Happy burst through door a second later and helped her up.

Morgan was bouncing by the side of the bed, telling a story, running her hands over the scarring on Tony’s face and torso and the stump of his arm.

“It feels weird,” she giggled. Tony tutted.

“Weird, huh? I thought it was kind of cool.”

“No,” said Morgan, contrary and decisive. “It’s  _ weird _ .”

“Wow - ouch,” Tony hissed in mock offense. “Hey, you know what I think?  _ I think _ we should ask Mommy. What do you think - Mommy?” The look he gave Pepper was apologetic, almost nervous, as if he was actually afraid she’d - “You think it’s weird?”

Pepper couldn’t help the grin that split across her face - at the absurdity of the question, the overwhelming relief of just seeing him  _ alive _ . Smiling, she shook her head.

“There, you see?” said Tony, eyes shining and wrinkling at the corners. “Mommy doesn’t think it’s weird. You’ve been outvoted. Ah, ah, nope - sorry, don’t make the rules.”

“You have to feel it!” Morgan squealed, grabbing Pepper’s arm and dragging her over to the bedside. “Uncle Happy, you think it’s weird, right?”

“Whoa, I’m - ” Happy put his arms up in defense. Tony laughed, thin and wet, as Pepper let her hand be dragged down to his scar tissue.

“Actually...” she said, gingerly stroking the broken skin, “now that I’m  _ feeling  _ it…”

Tony scoffed.

“Unbelievable. My own family. At least Happy’s got my back. Right?”

“I’m… not gonna…pet your...” Happy mumbled as Tony released a warm, genuine laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

Pepper forgot about notifying anyone but fortunately, she wasn’t the only person at the palace keeping tabs on Tony and the people who cared about him. 

Rhodey was the first to appear, changing course mid-flight as soon as he got the news.

“You son of a bitch,” he said, fighting a smile. “You lucky, self-destructive, beautiful son of a bitch.”

Tony had been propped up on a slope of fluffy, soft pillows and given some kind of sloppy but delicious porridge that he was stubbornly struggling to eat left-handed.

“Hm, you forgot, let’s see... genius, um, self- _ sacrificing _ , and - ooh, ‘magnanimous,’ that’s a good word. Morgan do you know what ‘magnanimous’ means?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Generous. Selfless. Means you share your toys.”

“Well that’s definitely not you,” Rhodey snorted.

“Hey, I gave you that suit. Pepper, honey, did I or did I not give Colonel Rhodes a  _ truly badass _ suit of Iron Man armor?”

“I seem to recall it being confiscated during a certain memorable birthday party.”

“Technicality,” Tony countered dismissively. But his lips twitched when his eyes darted over and a second later the air was light with their laughter, and Rhodey strolled over and pulled Tony into a long hug.

“Just lose the martyr complex,” Pepper heard him say quietly.

“I don’t know - does it qualify as a complex when you’re  _ actually _ the world’s only hope?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? That was a good question, really - probably better suited for a philosopher than an Air Force Colonel.”

“Tony.”

“Which, nothing against the Air Force. Naturally. Or Colonels. In fact, my best friend is an Air Force Colonel. Maybe you know each other - ”

“Tones,” Rhodey repeated, a little more forcefully. “You saved everyone.  _ Everyone _ . You’ve done enough. It’s someone else’s turn.”

Tony didn’t seem to have anything to say to that.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter was the second arrive. He tripped over the portal and stumbled into Tony’s room scrambling to his feet. Stephen followed, gracefully clearing the sparking threshold, and held out one arm to steady Peter while closing the portal with the other.

“Ton- Mr. Stark! You’re awake! Oh man, I’m sorry I’m late I ran straight to the New York - uh - the wizard school? You know, oh, sorry Dr. Strange, I didn’t mean - what was I - oh, yeah, but I got lost - ”

“Jesus - Pete - ”

“ - and I couldn’t just ask on the street, ‘Hey, where’s the wizard school?’ - sorry Dr. Strange - and then I had to wait - ”

“Peter!” Tony said a little louder. “Kid, you really have  _ got _ to learn how to breathe, okay? Have you tried yoga? Pilates?”

“What? No, I - ”

“Just… just come here, Pete.”

He looked almost as frantic as he’d been when Pepper had tried to calm him on the battlefield, shaking and holding back tears, but when Tony held out his arm and beckoned again - “Come on” - Peter staggered forward and collapsed to his knees at the bedside, falling forward onto Tony’s scar-pocked chest with a sob. Tony closed his arm, elbow resting near the small of Peter’s back while his hand came to ruffle the short hairs at the back of his head.

“I’m so - I’m so sorry, I - ”

“Not your fault,” Tony muttered, cutting him off. “Pete, look at me. You have  _ nothing _ to be sorry for. Do you hear me?”

Pepper saw his good eye flick up from the top of Peter’s head and cast a quick meaningful look that landed a little to her right. She could guess what it meant, and when she glanced over Stephen’s face stretched into a tight frown, heavy at the corners of his mouth. He blinked twice, and gave a half nod.

“Uh,” Peter whimpered, also trying to nod his head.

“I wanna hear you say it. Come on.”

“I - ” Peter sniffed and his voice trembled as he tripped through the sentence. “I - I have nothing to be sorry for?”

“That’s right.”

After a moment of silence, Peter spoke again, voice a little steadier.

“Thank you Mr. Stark.”

Tony smiled softly and gave Peter a squeeze.

“Hey now. Mr. Stark was my father.”

Peter pulled back looking Tony in the eyes with unbridled awe.

“Tony… thanks.”

Swaying a little, he pulled back and stood, swinging lightweight backpack off over his shoulder.

“Here, I - ” he sniffled, kneeling down to unzip it and produce a half-gallon ziplock bag stuffed with crumbling brown bricks of granola and fruit. “From Aunt May, and…” 

Tony took bag gingerly with a polite smile and Peter plunged both hands into the bag, carefully bringing out a blocky red-and-yellow bust.

“From Ned and, uh, and me,” Peter said sheepishly, cradling in his hands what was obviously a life-size lego replica of the Iron Man helmet. “We didn’t get to gluing it, before they called me, but…”

“Wow,” said Tony around a gentle smile. “Thanks, Pete. Really.”

Peter looked at his feet and smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

After Rhodey and Peter there was a rush of demand for visitation - from friends, acquaintances, complete strangers. Some of them Pepper honestly didn’t know if Tony had ever met or not.

“‘Nebula’?” Pepper asked, reading from a neat list

“Yeah, blue chick. Kept me company in space. She’s a yes.”

“And she wants to bring her friends, the ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’?”

“Yeah, we met. Briefly. On Titan. They didn’t survive. The - you know.”

“So you want to see them?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Okay…” Pepper said, taking a moment to note Tony’s answers, “and I have an… ‘Ant-Man’? Is that even a real - ”

“That’s the name he gave you? Honestly? Whatever, he’s good. His people, too.”

“Got it. And… how about Steve?”

“Steve?”   
“Rogers.”

Tony gave her a look, but sighed.

“Yeah, I guess I can see why you’d feel like you’d have to ask.”

“And?” Pepper prompted.

“Yes.”

“Yes…?”

“Yeah, let him in.”

“Are you sure? Because - ”

“Yes. Pepper. I’m sure. End of discussion. Come on, what’s the next name on the list?”

“Alright…” Pepper swiped the screen of her tablet. “Next I’ve got… Harley Keener.”

“Oh yeah. Great kid. Met him on a mission a few… god, ten years back now? He’s a yes for sure.”

Pepper added him to the list.

It was a long list, by the time they’d gone through all the requests that had made it past Pepper’s first pass. In fact, looking over it, she realized that Tony hadn’t turned down any of the people she’d asked him about. There was no way all of these people could visit at the same time. Consulting with the orderlies, Pepper had settled on three hours of non-family visitation per day, at least to start. The rest of Tony’s days were reserved for rest, with breaks for food and an unconventional brand of physical therapy overseen by Dr. Strange, that was designed to return most of the function to Tony’s slightly atrophic right leg. He also found time to complain whole-heartedly about being taken off caffeine and half-heartedly about the quality and quantity of cheeseburgers available to him.

So if Tony wasn’t going to be picky about who he let into his recovery room, Pepper was going to have to take over that job herself. So ended her week of pseudo-vacation. 

She invited a small crowd of familiar faces for the first day of scheduled visitations: Bruce, Thor, Clint and his family, Steve. Even though Tony had okayed it, she’d agonized about asking Steve, taken him on and off the list a dozen times before deciding it would be too awkward, too obvious to leave him off the roster when she invited the rest of… what was left of the original team.

 

* * *

 

 

“Am I early?” Steve asked the next day when he arrived early.

“Yes.”

He shifted uncomfortably in the doorway to Pepper’s quarters, where he must have been shown by a palace attendant. After a few seconds, Pepper took pity and invited him in.

“He’s almost done with this physical therapy,” she said. “Then I can let you in.”

She’s couldn’t help but be relieved when Clint showed up a couple of minutes later, and Bruce after him. Only Thor was missing by the time she showed the party into Tony’s room, and he appeared on a bolt of lightning not long after.

She took her tablet and joined King T’Challa for a long-needed diplomatic talk with a few strategic powers, leaving Morgan with Happy and Tony alone with his teammates. Morgan pouted, not understanding why she still can’t see her father, even though he’s awake.

“Can’t I come with you, Mommy?” she begged.

“You wouldn’t have any fun, honey,” Pepper told her honestly. “We’re going to be talking about boring grown-up things. But Uncle Happy will take you out to do something fun.”

It was the truth, but it didn’t make Pepper feel any better. For four years she or Tony had been available to their daughter at every hour of the day, and suddenly…

“We’ll go see Daddy when you get back,” she promised, and quietly resolved to scout out a successor, step down as CEO as soon as the world was stable again. Morgan pouted deeper, but she didn’t throw a fit, so Pepper kissed her on the head and stepped into the throne room with her tablet balanced against her bicep.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was still there when Pepper returned, haggard and a little late, from her meeting. He looked almost as tired as she was, though his posture remained perfect, spine sprouting erect from an uncomfortable-looking stool he had dragged to Tony’s bedside. Unlike Pepper, his was a contented kind of fatigue, like he’d actually accomplished something rather than listen to a handful of world leaders talk in circles around one another for over three hours. Pepper had barely stepped through the door when he was on his feet, looking sheepish.

“I’m apologize, Mrs. Stark. I was just on my way - ”

“Potts,” Pepper corrected dryly. “It’s Ms. Potts, still, but when was the last time you called me ‘Ms.’ Anything, Steve?”

“He pulls the 1940s Boy Scout act when he’s trying to be contrite,” Tony offered from his bed. “Morgan, honey, do you know what ‘contrite’ means?”

Peeking out from behind Pepper’s legs, Morgan shook her head. She was still in a bad mood, but at Tony’s question she perked up almost instantly.

“It means he’s sorry,” Tony said, “but it’s alright because I’ve already forgiven him. Because  _ I  _ am magnanimous. Remember that one?”

“You shared your toys?” Morgan said, pleased with herself.

“Yeah, something like that,” Tony agreed. He caught Steve’s eyes and nodded.

“Right,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ms. Potts - Pepper. Morgan.” He nodded and them in turn and skulked toward the door. He stopped in the threshold and paused.

“You know it… it really wasn’t an act,” she said to the floor.

“I know,” said Tony, without the usual edge of snark.

“Bye, Mr. America!” Morgan said brightly, waving. Steve turned around to give her a smile and a wave as he finally ducked out the door.

“What was that about?” Pepper asked, but she was smiling, too.

“Just… unfinished business,” Tony shrugged. Pepper smiled softly.

“I’m glad you worked it out.”

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take long for Tony to get restless.

“The inorganic nanomaterials are integrating with your tissues at an atomic level. Your body is under enough stress with just the recovery and the therapy,” Shuri explained impatiently.

“Yeah, I  _ know _ . I’m no biologist, but this isn’t my first rodeo with tissue integration. Your Highness.”

“You don’t have to call me that.”

“I’m sorry, your… Royal Majesty? Look. Thanks. Thank you, for saving my life and, and everything, but. I’m begging you, I - look, you can, you can set out some soothing scented candles, whatever makes you happy, just give me something to tinker with. I can keep my body still for another. Week. Week-and-a-half, tops. But not my mind. I’m going stir-crazy here. Your Grace.”

“Three weeks,” Shuri replied firmly. “Minimum.” 

Tony groaned dramatically. 

“But you’re right,” she continued. “Keeping your mind active may help form and solidify the pathways needed to fully integrate the foreign matter into your neural network and reduce the risk of spontaneous temporary paralysis.”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s exactly what I was going for. I’m sorry, did you just say ‘spontaneous paralysis’?”

“Temporary. Spontaneous temporary paralysis. Don’t worry, that’s why I’m monitoring your recovery, Tony Stark. And I’ll find something for you to do with your large man-brain.”

“That felt like sarcasm.”

“It was.”

“But - not the part where you’re going to give me something to do.”

“No, no. Do you have any requests?”

“I actually have an idea,” said Stephen. Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “I had been thinking that delving just a little deeper into the mystic arts might do some good.”

“Okay, calm down, David Copperfield, let's not get carried away.”

“David Copperfield?”

“Yeah, famous magician - shouldn't you know that?”

“I know who David Copperfield is, what I'm - ”

“Anyway, I was thinking more along the lines of eye tracking. Connect the interface with one of my remote control suits. Something I’d been toying with off and on, anyway, since the Iron Legion, but I never really got off the ground. But you know what they say, necessity the mother of invention and all that, really it’d be just some minor adjustments - easy tweaks - and then voila! Hands free tinkering. I can get started on my arm.”

Shuri was already producing a holographic Iron Man suit from her beads with a tap. 

“Yes, that should be easy enough,” she mused.

“Are those my schematics? Where did you get that?” 

“Tony!” Pepper hissed.

“And don't worry about the arm. I've already mocked up a couple prototypes,” she continued with a grin. “They're not in your skin tone, but I'm sure we can do a custom exterior for the finished prosthetic if it's important to you.”

“This is corporate espionage. Or just. Regular espionage, that suit is a matter of national - of global security, you know.”

“ _ Tony. _ ”

“Good thing we’re on the same side, then, Iron Man.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony capitulated, raising his hand in a placating gesture. “But seriously, where did you get those designs?”

Shuri just laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

“So using the left side as a control, calculating for natural sensory differences between the sides using readings stored in the unused suit material, we’ll measure till impulses are about 90% attuned to the nano-components of the existing axons and introduce the fully synthetic counterparts at the final stages of integration for the smoothest transition with the smallest chance of transplant rejection,” Shuri explained.

“Wow, that is so smart. You are so smart!”

“I know, right?”

Pepper had stopped by Shuri’s lab on the way out of the palace to find a playground where Morgan could wear herself out while Pepper took a conference call with recently un-deceased shareholders. The lab wasn't exactly on her way, but she needed the illusion of control that came with keeping up to date on Tony's progress. Somehow, the sight of a wide-eyed Peter Parker - clinging to Shuri’s words as if he almost understood them in a way Pepper never quite could - was the most reassuring thing she had seen in days. Morgan, getting too big to be propped on her hip like a toddler, made a gasp of delight as if to agree.

“Oh, hi, Morgan!” Peter greeted brightly. “Ms. Potts. I was just, um, I wanted to see Mr. - I mean, how  _ Tony _ was doing but they said he's in physical therapy but my ride already left so I figured I'd just hang out… hey did you  _ see _ this arm yet? It's like…” - Peter flexed his own right arm, mouth pursed as he struggled to find the words or sound effects to describe the prosthetic - “...so cool!” he settled on eventually. 

“You know visiting hours start at three?” Pepper said, but she was smiling.

“Yeah, I know, I must've… I think I forgot factor in daylight savings…”

“Outdated, backwards tradition,” scoffed Shuri.

“Y - yes, thank you!” Peter agreed.

“I wanna see the arm!” Morgan interrupted loudly, tugging on Pepper’s sleeve.

“Oh… no, Morgan honey, Princess Shuri’s prototypes aren't toys. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have brought - we were just on our way to the park…” she explained sheepishly, trying to shush her daughter. 

“Mommy, you're being not manganaminous!” Morgan accused.

“If you want to bring her by this evening,” said Shuri, carefully manipulating a projection with her fingertips. “I can show you the finished prototype.” She looked up, and Pepper felt Morgan go still against her. “But you can’t touch  _ anything _ unless I say so. Do you know why?”

Morgan nodded and whispered, “you’re the Princess.”

“That’s right!” Shuri grinned. “Have fun at the park.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said, turning to leave. Morgan squealed, a little too close to her ear:

“Mommy, did you see that? The Princess said have fun at the park!”

The laughter that followed them out down the hall, along with Morgan’s shaking excitement and Peter’s obvious approval of the arm, all made her feel a little less helpless, a little more bold. But she was going to be late for her meeting. She let Morgan crawl onto her shoulders, where she wouldn’t accidentally trip Pepper as she squirmed, and stepped into the warm air of the palace gardens in search of a park with a bench.

 

* * *

 

Tony asked to inspect the arm before it was attached. He’d started spending his time butting into the political talks the Avengers had started negotiating after getting the worst of the post-Resurrection chaos under control. His sacrifice gave him clout and he yielded it with grace, diplomatic and conciliatory, taking genuine delight in surprising people who had written him off as the narcissistic manchild he still sometimes masqueraded as. 

Working with the new eye-tracking interface for his Mark 47 armor he had started and quickly abandoned a few projects before he was out of the palace, putting in appearance at celebrations all over the world, stopping along the way to rescue a civilian or two. Shuri had to confiscate the controls, because he couldn’t keep himself still, throwing his whole body behind the movement of his one good eye. Miraculously, instead of moping for another week, he had diverted his full attention to the diplomatic sphere, where he was doing real good. In Pepper’s opinion, he was thriving.

But he demanded a chance to thinker with the arm, promised the delicate work would keep him calm and still behind the eye-tracking controller and that all the energy would be confined to his “large man-brain.” Pepper agreed he had a right to see his new arm, and apparently, Shuri did too.

“This is incredible,” he said, sounding almost humble as he ran the pads of flesh fingers over the exposed innards of the prosthetic arm. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“You couldn’t have done it at all,” Shuri said, playfully but unabashedly honest.

“Not like this,” Tony agreed. He brushed his fingers gently over the delicate synapses and artificial muscles.

“Anyway,” he continued, “it’s going to need a little, a few minor…  _ aesthetic _ modifications, so if you can return my expropriated property…” He gestured for the lavender-tinted, thick-framed aviators Shuri was holding out of his reach, fitted with the eye-tracking interface.

“Too pale?” Shuri asked, squinting at the arm.

“What? No, no, too natural. Not really my style.”

Shuri rolled her eyes.

“You could have told me from the beginning if you wanted your whole arm in Gryffindor colors.”

“Excuse you. Iron Man colors. Does this look like Comic Con to you? Save your alakazam nerd shit for the literal wizard. Glasses.” He held out his hand.

Shuri raised an eyebrow at him.

“What do you want? Gold plate and red paint?”

“It’s a titanium gold alloy. Come on, gimme. I’ll do it myself. I want to do it.” 

Shuri held out the glasses with a half-grin.

“Anyway,” said Tony as she turned toward the door. “I’m a Ravenclaw.”

“Bullshit. You’re a Slytherin.”

She closed the door behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

The red and gold prosthetic looked almost natural on him. 

Tony had taken his opportunity to tinker and made a few minor functional adjustments in addition to the aesthetic changes, in anticipation of interfacing the arm straight into his next nano tech armor. Now that the near-total ban on movement had been lifted he was eager to test it out, but Pepper made him promise to take it slow, and Shuri wasn’t ready to sign off on caffeine.

“We need to let the synapses fully form and integrate before you start altering your brain chemistry.”

“This is altered,” Tony argued back. “Caffeinated is my normal state.”

Shuri didn’t yield. Pepper was grateful for the respite, but still worried about what would happen when Tony’s recovery was complete. She didn’t have any illusions that things would ever go back to the way they were those five quiet years by the lake. She didn’t want them to; things were better now, and the things they had lost were outweighed by the things they had gotten back. But she also did not want to watch Tony regress into the public punching bag he’d once had the low self-regard to let himself become. If she let herself be really selfish, she didn’t want him away from her and Morgan days out of the month in mortal danger, even for a worthy cause.

So she told him as much.

“How is this going to work now? Going forward?” she said one night when Morgan had been put to bed and she was resting, just being in her husband’s company while she checked her email and he annotated designs.

“I’m glad you brought this up,” he said after a moment, “because I have been trying to work up the courage for a week.”

He wasn’t looking at her, and Pepper’s heart sunk.

“I’m not asking you to retire,” she began. “Not entirely, but…”

“I’ve had a few offers,” Tony said casually when she paused for too long, “for promotions, I guess you would call them. Fury wants me to lead the team. Now that Steve is… old, or whatever.”

“Tony - ” Pepper tried again, alarmed, but again he cut her off.

“Don’t worry, I turned him down. But. Uh.”

Pepper waited impatiently to let him finish, perched tensely on the edge of her chair.

“I was thinking of taking something a little… with a little more responsibility, actually. A little, something a little bigger.”

“ _ More _ responsibility?” she leapt to her feet, agitated. “More - Tony - you can’t possibly - “

Tony cocked an infuriating half-smile, glancing up from where he was fiddling with the plating on his arm.

“Wanna hear what the job is before you pass judgement?”

“Do I want - I don’t know, Tony,  _ do _ I want - ”

“Nothing too drastic,” Tony said under her, “just. Secretary of Defense.”

Pepper stopped.

“What?” she said after a beat. “Tony, what did you say?”

“Secretary of Defense.”

“You - ”

“Till Ellis finishes his term. Maybe for the transition. After that… it’s government, who knows. Anyway, I was thinking of accepting, but I wanted to run it by you just ‘cause… you know, communication… mutual respect. That kind of thing.”

“Oh my god,” Pepper breathed. “Oh, Tony, that’s… that’s wonderful!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! And what about…” Pepper stared at the bright blue hologram where Tony had been sketching out his suit designs. As relieved as she was, she still had concerns.

“About? What about… Iron Man? The Avengers? What about that?” Tony guessed.

“Are you still going to, you know - ” she gestured at the projection.

“I don’t know,” Tony said honestly. “I don’t want to… I don’t want anything to pull me away from you, from Morgan, again. But I don’t want you - her - I want her to grow up in a better world than I did. Safer. I don’t know if I can just…”

“Leave the heroics to the next generation?”

“Yeah,” Tony mumbled.

“Well, Mr. _ Secretary of Defense _ …”

“Not yet,” Tony corrected, but Pepper spoke over him.

“...seems to me like there’s more than one way of doing the hero job.

“I’ll be bogged down in bureaucracy.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Have you been talking to Steve?”

“But really. Tony,” Pepper’s voice was low and serious, but also a little sultry, as she sidled over to sit at the edge of his bed. She smoothed his hair away from his forehead, lingering on the lumpy scar tissue that made up the right side of his face. “You have a chance to bring about real, systematic change. To pave the way for generations of superheroes to come - in  _ concrete _ policy, as a leader, not a martyr. Think of how much good you can do!”

“So what I’m hearing is… I should accept.”

“Well, yes…”

“And… we should celebrate?” Tony added, grinning wide.

“Oh,” said Pepper smoothly, mirroring his smile. Her hand traced down his face to the collar of his thin grey T-shirt. “Well…”

Tony’s head tilted forward, reaching for her, and she leaned in and down to meet him halfway.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do something about your face?” Shuri said, standing in the doorway as Tony searched the room for personal items he’d forgotten to stuff into his black leather Prada suitcase. He’d amassed a small hoard during the months of his treatment.

“You know, I’m sure the royal family would be happy to mail you anything you forgot.” Stephen was leaning against the wall by the door, tapping his sling ring fingers impatiently against his upper arm.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of ascetic?” quipped Tony. “Just give me a minute.” He turned on his heels to stare down Shuri while Stephen produced an stopwatch out of thin air. “And what exactly is wrong with my face? Princess.”

Shuri shrugged, unphased.

“Nothing, just. Doesn’t match your arm.”

“Not getting a bionic faceplate, princess.”

“I’m just saying, it would pretty badass…”

Against the wall, Stephen’s jaw flexed and he pressed his lips together like he was swallowing the urge to recommend another plastic surgeon. Tony had shut that down much the same way, and Stephen had struggled to explain politely why exactly he thought Tony needed one. The conversation with Pepper had been quieter. Less guarded.

 

“I’m thinking of keeping it,” he’d said as they lay tangled on his small bed after celebrating his promotion. “The face. If you’re okay with it, that is.”

“It’s your body, Tony.”   
“I know, but it’s, I feel like it’s at least… twelve percent your body. You know?”   
“Twelve percent?” Pepper echoed.

“It’s negotiable,” he said immediately.

“No,” she said, so sincerely that he’d flinched. “I have… a vested interest in your body being…” What? Healthy? Present? Whole? “...alive.”   
“Wow, low bar.”

“Not for you. Tony, I’m trying to - I really need you to understand what I’m saying. Your body is… is  _ your body _ . Not mine, not the military’s, not the state’s, the, the people’s…” Pepper was wracked by a sob that she probably should have seen coming and bitten back. But it was out now and she was crying into Tony’s chest. “Don’t you understand you’ve done enough?”

Tony had held her in silence for a long minute.

“I’ll call the president in the morning,” he said quietly. “Tell him I decline.”

“No, no,” Pepper protested, “that’s not what. I’m really happy - really proud of you, I just don’t want. I don’t want you slipping. I don’t want it to go back to the way it was ten… five years ago… it’s selfish, I know, but I don’t want to wake up and hear that you’re missing, or in danger, or d - ” she choked on another sob. “I just want you to be  _ Tony _ , not - ”

“Not Iron Man.”

“I - ”

“No, it’s okay. That’s actually part of the reason I wanted to… well, this.” He pointed to his scars. “It’s, like, a reminder that I can’t ignore. Every time I look in the mirror, I see  _ exactly _ how close I came to leaving you, Morgan... alone. I don’t want to do that to you, and I don’t want to... to forget. Why I made that choice.” He squeezed her shoulders and rocked them gently. “Okay?”

Pepper nodded against him.

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

They kept the cottage as a summer home and lake house and moved to Pennsylvania - between D.C. and Stark Industries’ headquarters in New York. 

Pepper spent a few months reorganizing the leadership structure of her company, bringing on a chief financial officer, a chief business officer and a handful of other executive positions, before finally handing off the CEO title and stepping into the newly delineated role of company president, where she kept much of her executive power with fewer direct responsibilities.

Tony was busy, but with the help of the Avengers his schedule slowly cleared over the course of a year, leaving him with occasional weeks of crisis punctuating long months of diplomacy, strategy, and bureaucracy. Between them (and Happy) Morgan was never lonely. She started kindergarten in the Fall and thrived. 

When they went out, people stopped Tony in the streets to thank him for his service, like a veteran. Tony accepted the praise with his usual bravado, but Pepper could tell his heart wasn’t in the role the way it had once been. Morgan flourished under the attention, but that was a concern for another decade. 

For the time being, they had everything they wanted, and all it had cost was an arm and an eye.

**Author's Note:**

> Insert your favorite fix-it headcanon to undo Nat's death and make that last sentence accurate. I didn't have the inspiration to work that in myself.  
> This is based on one of two one-armed post-Endgame Tony headcanons I developed to cope with my bullshit feelings. The other is that right after the snap someone cuts Tony's arm clean off at the elbow. Most of the damage is confined to his severed limb with much less severe injuries to the rest of his body.  
> Anyway thanks for reading and enjoy continuing to living in a world where Tony Stark is definitely still alive!


End file.
